


The Quiet Man

by Small_Hobbit



Category: Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-11 03:57:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11706327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: The world assumed Mycroft Holmes did not indulge in intimate relations.  The world was mistaken.





	The Quiet Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lynndyre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lynndyre/gifts).



Mycroft Holmes was someone who, the world assumed, did not indulge in intimate relationships.  There had been the occasional rumour over the years, sparked by a lady being seen in his presence at a few social events, but nothing more was heard of it.  And now, in his middle years, it was assumed he was happy to be on his own.  His brother knew differently, but made no mention of the fact, beyond an occasional raise of his eyebrows, which would be met with a similar response.

And thus life continued, and nothing appeared to disturb the regularity of Mycroft’s life.  Or so it would appear.  On one particular day, a keen observer would have seen Mycroft Holmes inspecting the papers which passed over his desk with more than usual care.  He was searching for a reference to Viscount Anthony Southgate amidst the reports from central Europe.  He had seen nothing mentioning either Southgate, or one of the aliases he travelled under, for just over a week.

Viscount Southgate, youngest son of a duke who had considerable land in the north of England, was Mycroft’s lover.  It was, as might be expected, a very discrete affair.  The Viscount travelled extensively in the service of his country, so he and Mycroft saw little of each other.  They would meet every few weeks, go to the opera together, then stroll back to the Viscount’s town house for a drink or two, before Mycroft returned to his own rooms.  About once every three months they would spend a weekend in the country together, where Mycroft passed most of his time in reading, and writing letters; and the Viscount rode his cousin’s horses.

But despite not seeing each other, Mycroft usually knew where the Viscount was.  He, or one of his colleagues, would send diplomatic reports home, which Mycroft inevitably had to read.  At other times there would be coded messages, which might not reveal as much detail, but would still enable Mycroft to pinpoint with a reasonable degree of accuracy where the Viscount was.

This time, there was nothing.  For a few days Mycroft had not been unduly worried.  The last message received had implied there was somebody within the government who was passing information to a foreign power.  It was feasible no further messages had been sent to prevent this individual from gaining further information.  But now that explanation could no longer be wholly viable, because Mycroft was confident he would have received something which would have updated him.

Unable to share his fears, since he did not know who was the traitor within their midst, and unwilling to expose his own particular concerns, Mycroft said nothing, and did not behave in any way out of the ordinary.  He left the building at his usual time, in the company of two of his colleagues.  As they departed on their separate ways, Mycroft noticed they were both being followed.  He wondered if he too would have someone following him, but it appeared he was deemed to be of little interest.  This suited him perfectly.

Mycroft was sitting quietly reading that evening when he heard a knock on the door.  His housekeeper answered it and came in to announce a Mr Valence had called and apologised for the lateness of the hour, which was due to his train having been delayed.

Mycroft stood up and politely requested coffee from his housekeeper before going to greet his unexpected visitor.

“Do come in, Valence,” he said.  “Take a seat.”

“I must apologise for my tardiness.  There was trouble just outside Reigate,” Valence said.

Mycroft closed the curtains and answered, “Yes, I believe it’s been going on all week.”

“Most inconvenient.”

The housekeeper brought the coffee in.  “Will there be anything else, Mr Holmes?”

“No thank you.  And please don’t wait up.  I shall lock up myself.”

“Yes, sir.  As you wish.”

Once she had left, Mycroft turned back to his visitor.  His customary slow deliberate movements were replaced with brisk efficiency.  “Anthony, have you been hurt?”

“Nothing serious.  I’ve got a couple of wounds which will need cleaning and redressing but I can manage them myself.”

“I can help you.  I cannot offer you a bath, but there’s a jug of hot water which should be sufficient for you to wash.”

“Am I allowed to finish this cup of excellent coffee first?”

“Of course.  I presume you have been followed, which is why you asked for the curtains to be shut.”

“Yes.  I lost my follower just long enough to make it here, but I suspect he’ll be looking for me.  I hope you don’t mind me coming; I needed an ally I knew I could trust.”

“My dear fellow, of course I don’t mind you coming to me.  I was half expecting you.”

“Really?”  Valence stood up.  “Has something happened?”

“Two of my colleagues were followed after work.  This indicated to me you were expected to arrive in London shortly and would be seeking to make discrete contact with the department.  I therefore assumed you would come to me if you could, and therefore made arrangements.”

“Like the hot water and the supper which I see is laid on the table.”

“Exactly.  So, as soon as my housekeeper told me a Mr Valence had arrived,”  Mycroft lips twitched into a half smile, “and, had he given his first name I assume it would have been Moreton.”

Valence smiled and shrugged, “It’s a name I’ve not used before, and I knew you would recognise it instantly.”

“Being the location of your cousin’s house – of course I would.  I knew it was you.  I am much relieved to see you looking as well as you are.  I was beginning to have serious concerns.”

Valence nodded in acknowledgement, and then winced.

Mycroft continued.  “Come.  Let’s clean your wounds and then you can eat while you tell me anything I need to know.  In particular, are you in danger at the moment?”

“No, they won’t try anything while I’m here.  They might attempt to attack me once I’ve left though.”

“In which case, it would be better if you stayed the night.  The fog is growing thicker and although it might give you better opportunity to slip away, it will also give you less chance of spotting an assailant.”

“Is this wise?  You don’t want to compromise your position.”

“We can leave early in the morning.  My housekeeper is under strict instructions not to disturb me until 8 o’clock.  We therefore have this floor to ourselves and I can be back again by eight.  Now, no more delay, I wish to see how bad your injuries are.”

Later, Mycroft insisted Valence (they had agreed he would continue to use his alias whilst in the house) sleep in his bed.  He himself stayed up, writing notes and then letters.  Finally, in the early hours of the morning he went downstairs and woke the bellboy to send him with a number of messages.

He then went back upstairs.  A touch on the shoulder had Valence instantly alert.

“It’s time for us to leave,” Mycroft said.  “I have arranged for a cab to pick us up in ten minutes.”

“Where are we going?” Valence asked.  “I’m not convinced it would be wise or safe for you to accompany me.”

“There was no-one waiting outside, so I believe we should have no problem at this hour of the morning.  It is imperative I continue as normal, so I shall be returning home in time to continue my regular routine.  I have sent a message to my brother, so you can stay with him for the next few hours.  I do not anticipate we shall need longer than that.”

“Very well!”  Valence sounded both pleased and relieved Mycroft had everything in hand.

They journeyed in silence to Baker Street.  Once there Mycroft ensured Valence was safely inside before returning to his own rooms.  He then, as he had stated, continued with his own morning routine, arriving at the exact minute he habitually arrived.

Throughout the morning various messages passed over Mycroft’s desk.  He read them with satisfaction, but gave no outward sign of his pleasure at the way matters were proceeding. 

Finally, shortly before lunch a junior official entered Mycroft’s office.  “Mr Holmes, have you heard, Mr Gardiner has been arrested.  It’s rumoured he has been passing secrets to the other side.”

Mycroft looked up.  “Is that so?  Since I cannot see it will affect the agricultural report which is required this afternoon, I would suggest you return to your work forthwith.”

As he left his office at lunch, various people tried to engage him in conversation, but he showed no interest in responding, and they quickly turned to others who were more included to discuss the events of the morning.

Mycroft left the building as he did every lunchtime, but instead of turning right he turned left, and was shortly afterwards joined by Viscount Anthony Southgate, who no longer had need to call himself Valence.

“You have excelled yourself this time,” the Viscount said.

Mycroft smiled.  “I would hope to have done so for anyone in your position.  The fact it was you merely added a little urgency to the matter.”

They continued to walk side by side, to any outsider’s view two gentlemen discussing the high official arrested for sharing state secrets, to the few in the know, two lovers sharing an intimate moment.

 


End file.
